Lily
Chapter 12-If Slughorn Were My Grandfather
I have come to realize that, well, I'm officially over this entire boy business. I'm only fourteen. It's never too soon to give up boys. So, as of now, my mantra is this; boys have cooties. At least, I hope they do. It would explain a lot about them.
I've been going a week without saying a single word to any of them (Potter, Lupin, Black, Johnson, Snape, even sweet ol' Frank Longbottom) and I feel so much better already. It's amazing to think about it. I never realized what a huge part the male species plays in my life each and every day.
Holly has been quite sympathetic about all of this, I tell you. In the past week, I've heard a variation of all of the following,
"How is this going to do you any good?"
"Lily, would you have Peter pass the potatoes?"
"This plan is swell, Lil. And by swell, I mean absolutely bonkers."
"This little charade of yours is going a bit far if you ask me. Diggory's hand set fire in Potions and you didn't do a thing to help him!"
Thanks for holding back, Hol. Sheesh, you'd think I was some sort of madwoman the way she talks to me. Last night, I had this really strange, demented dream, which only adds to the problem. It involved Holly, a straight jacket, and Sirius Black manically laughing. Maybe I am mad.
Ha, no.
XXX
Right now, I'm sitting in Potions and let me tell you, the atmosphere has never been more nauseating. Although Amos Diggory is still absolutely peeved at me for catching flame to his hand (honestly, what a girl), he's still merciful he has me, Potions master extraordinaire, for a partner.
Professor Slughorn, jolly good man that he is, has taken to inflating my ego as much as he possibly can. Although I sort of feel bad about enjoying it, I can't help but notice I have a semi-permanent grin plastered to my face.
I've always enjoyed this class particularly because, well, it's something that comes naturally to me. It's no Charms, but I enjoy it nonetheless. It's good to know I've got one thing in my life under control.
A little sea grass here, a little boomslang there, and voila! I've suddenly become worthy of recognition. I'm beginning to believe that Holly's gotten a bit sick of this class. She's been stuck with Severus Snape, which has only added to the rumor mill. I don't know what she's sulking on about. Snape, despite his social retardation and insistent hissing problem, is a very capable Potion maker.
He's developed a bit of a grudge against me, I do believe. Not that I care really, but that snarky birk seems to be carrying out some sort of sabotage against me. Why me, really? I thought we were star-crossed lovers (tragedy plus time is the equivalent of comedy, they do say).
Now, let me inform you, diary, of how exactly I came about this somewhat disturbing revelation.
Reasoning Behind My So-Called Paranoia
The Sabotage Evans Plan
1) The hissing--
It must mean something. I daresay people don't go around hissing at other people, particularly me, for no good reason. I'm beginning to think he's hoping it will serve as some sort of distraction. Well, I have news for him. I am Lily Evans and well, I was a born Potion brewer.
2) The comments--
Yes, words, actual words, have been escaping that scoundrel's mouth. Alright, so it was only one comment, but it was full of implication. "So, Evans, do you bathe in pineapple perfume or does Slughorn just like muggle?" How rude was that! I mean, insinuating that Slughorn favors me for more than my overachievement?
3) His target--
Since when has Snape started hating me more than the Marauders? Since when, I dare ask? That lot is immensely more deserving of such sabotage. Not that they need it, really. The four of them happen to all be failing Potions. To Sirius Black's dismay, Slughorn doesn't take bribes. At least not from a Gryffindor. Lucky for me, I don't need to bribe him.
4) Those eyes--
Holly thinks I'm just out of my tree, but really, he has this omniscient, conniving look about him. It's as if he's going to strike at any moment, waiting for my back to be turned or my vulnerability to be exposed. I've taken to letting Jules sleep near my face--which, might I add, is an extreme safety hazard--just for defensive purposes.
So what if Slughorn likes me better? It's based entirely on my skills, my intelligence, and my eagerness to learn. When I told Holly this, all I received was an incomprehensible snort. Wasn't attractive in the least. And she claims to have a crush on Diggory. Psh, if she did, she wouldn't be risking him hearing her pig noises.
"Lily, you don't honestly believe that Slughorn only likes you for your Potion making?" she asked me, laughing her stupid little head off about the entire predicament.
"Enlighten me," I told her, becoming extremely annoyed and hot-faced, never a good combination. "Fumigate me with your wisdom."
"Well, as an example, let me remind you of what our professor said after you set Diggory's hand on fire," she said, her grin resembling that of the balmy cat from Alice and Wonderland. I still have nightmares about that movie and she knows it. "I believe his exact wording was, 'Lily's so cheeky. Five points to Gryffindor!'. If we weren't all underage, he'd have broken out the mead."
Blast her and her ridiculous insinuations. I much prefer being paranoid about Severus Snape, who I believe bites the heads off of chickens, than Horace Slughorn, who I would love to be my grandfather. And to prove this point to Holly, I believe I'll let Amos take the wheel on our Potion and I'll write this lovely editorial discussing exactly why Slughorn deserves more appreciation. Who knows, it might make a wonderful Christmas gift someday.
If Slughorn Were My Grandfather
Written by Lily Evans, the Potions whiz
If Horace Slughorn were my grandfather, the world would make a bit more sense. I can just envision Slughorn taking me and Petunia upon his knee, a big, fat cigar in his mouth, and a walking staff resting in the palm of his hand. We would listen to his crazy, adventurous tales regarding his days as a soldier in the war, the reasoning behind his bum knee, and the many loves of his life.
He would recall his days as a boy, buying soup for his sick mum and helping his brothers and sisters take care of her. He would share his dislike for afghans, coffee, and bad wine.
He would watch golf on the muggle tube and complain about the troublesome youth in the world.
"Lily, that sounds a lot like your own grandfather," Holly said abruptly, causing me to send a nasty, perturbed look her way.
So, she's a bit right. It does sound like my grandfather. A girl can dream though, right?
XXX
The best thing about being best friends with someone like Holly Spinnet is the fact that we're not afraid to be honest with one another. She calls me a mad shell, I call her a blazing witchdoctor and yet, we manage to tolerate one another for more than five minutes. I guess that's friendship for you.
For instance, just now I reminded Holly of that very unattractive snort she let loose in front of Diggory and we called me neurotic. That didn't bother me at all either. You see, if Potter had called me neurotic, he'd be recuperating from a shattered spinal cord or something equally as gruesome. But, since Holly is my friend, I see neurotic as a term of endearment.
Basically, the moral of this story is that, well, friendship is demented. James Potter and Sirius Black, two of the most insufferable human beings to walk the Earth, seem to have a friendship that resembles that of Holly and mine. Not that I'd ever point that out to Potter, especially since I've taken an oath to never speak to another boy again.
I feel so grounded, so focused. I am proud of my cause, my ability to restrain from socialization with anything of the male species. I've banned Jules as well. She can no longer go and frisk Filch in the middle of the night. It's for her own good, I must say.
Ah, well, have to go and argue with Holly a bit more regarding my 'Stand Strong' plan.
Toodles,
Lily
P.S. Yes, I said toodles.
A/N: This chapter was a bit goofy, but to be honest, I was setting up for canon plot lines later in the story. I'm not sure whether I'm going to have this story run through to seventh year or I'm going to make a series. I'm sort of fond of the series idea, to tell the truth. Hope you enjoyed. Please review.